


Second Kind of Mess

by janescott



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, community kink_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For my kink bing square, sleepy/unconscious - http://janescott.livejournal.com/3955.html#cutid1</p><p>Nothing herein belongs to me, of course :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Kind of Mess

Adam has trouble sleeping in hotel rooms. The stillness of his bed makes him restless and the sense-memory of the bus rumbling under him jerks him awake over and over.

Tommy has no such problems. He can – and does – fall asleep anywhere. On the bus, backstage on ratty dressing-room sofas and – once – on the stairs on stage after soundcheck.

Now, he collapses on the bed, crawling up towards the pillows, his face pale and tired, but intent.

Adam lies down beside him, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy rolls on to his side, and curls into Adam, pushing one hand under his shirt, seeking skin. Adam shudders when Tommy's fingers press into the soft skin of his stomach, but Tommy just mumbles something into his shoulder that Adam doesn't catch.

"What was that?"

Tommy lifts his head, and blinks once, twice, so slowly that it almost looks like a movie special-effect, his lashes pressing together and pulling apart; still sticky with mascara.

"Nothing. Just said I was tired enough to sleep for a week."

"Mmmm."

Tommy groans, and pushes himself up, just long enough to pull off his shoes, before collapsing back.

"You can't sleep in your clothes, come on." Tommy grumbles, but lets Adam manhandle him out of his jeans and t-shirt, until he's stripped down to nothing but a pair of briefs, clinging dangerously low to his hips. Adam licks his lips and runs his hand's over Tommy's body, which feels loose and almost liquid under his hands.

"Adam ... 'm too tired..." he pushes at Adam's hands, but his movements are slow and sleepy. Adam leans over and presses his mouth against Tommy's neck, tasting his pulse with his tongue. Tommy groans, his voice thick and low. He reaches up with one hand, resting it on Adam's cheek. "Fine, okay. But if I fall asleep, you're not allowed to take it personally."

"Promise," Adam says softly, kissing Tommy on the lips. He grumbles again, a small vibration against Adam's mouth that goes straight to his cock, and he groans as he opens his mouth, settling his weight over Tommy's slight frame.

They make out for a while, Adam's hands roaming over Tommy's body; his skin feeling like silk under his fingers. Tommy moves once in a while; like he's underwater, his arms and legs shifting slowly over Adam's back and hips.

Adam peels Tommy's briefs off and sighs when Tommy's cock – hard and damp at the tip – falls flat against his stomach. Tommy throws a hand over his eyes and yawns, wide and noisy. "Sorry," he mutters, not moving his arm. Adam hums a small, non-committal sound, before groping blindly for the bag on the floor.

He'll never admit it, but he loves Tommy like this – sleepy and pliant under Adam's touch. He opens Tommy up with slick fingers as quickly as he can, biting back a moan as Tommy's tight heat surrounds him, something he never ever tires of.

Adam starts moving, slowly at first; then faster as Tommy – who is so close to sleep that he's barely moving. He's still making tiny noises, and his mouth is moving, and Adam fixates on that as he comes, biting his lip in a ridiculous effort not to disturb Tommy's almost-slumber.

"Adam ... " Tommy's voice is gravelly as he moves one arm down his body, reaching for his cock; somehow still hard. Adam nudges Tommy's hand away and curls his fist around it, tight and slick. Tommy comes hard a minute later, his back arching and his hipbones standing out in sharp relief.

Adam pulls out gently and rolls to the side, pulling Tommy with him. Tommy curls against him and mutters something against Adam's arm, his breath hot.

Tommy settles his arm across Adam's stomach and pets at him vaguely with his hand.

"Sleep," Tommy mutters, even as Adam settles back for another long night of staring at the ceiling, while his body rides an imaginary tour bus.

"Sleep," he echoes softly, rubbing his thumb over Tommy's shoulder.


End file.
